In Continuum.

It is somewhat of a ritual to bookend every semesters with an introduction and a review of sorts. This semester is no different, though I must say that the workload has doubled or tripled for this semester, making it one of the busiest semesters yet. I don't remember feeling this tired in the past, this drawn out and this exhausted at the end of the week. Friday suddenly had a new meaning this semester, like the light at the end of a long treacherous tunnel with spikes on all sides. It's always interesting to look back at what I hoped for at the beginning, and what has come to past at the very end of things. I suppose expectations are like the distant nebula in the skies, where you can never reach and the place where hope is born. Of course, a star eventually burns out, dies away, turns back into dust, and you never get them fulfilled. You get disappointed that way, and we can't help it even if we try. This semester has been disappointing in terms of the lecturers, but at least everything else has been pretty fun. Once again, I am thinking to myself just how thankful I am to be in this school, rather than some supposedly prestigious local university. A lot has been said about them, their ranking in the world, and all that jazz. But at the end of the day, I am just thankful that this school provides me with a well-balanced out life, between the studies and myself. It is something I'd probably not get anywhere else, and who cares if they get longer holidays? It's always the quality rather than the quantity. 

For the lecturers, I suppose I can't ask for less for the most part. The Sociology lecturer turned out to be just a soft-spoken psychopath with a knife behind her back, backstabbing all of us with her killer papers out to draw blood. So much for the posters we stayed back in school to draw for her, and how we argued with the school administrators when she wanted them pasted around the school. So much for that failure of an exhibition when she wanted us to showcase our assignments, and so much for all the discussions in class that we participated. She became more and more of a pain in the ass as the semester wore on, increasingly difficult to please and hard to deal with. I suppose I have said enough about Jan, the third time is always the charm. This time, she blew the top off and erupted a hidden anger in the class never witnessed before. More than the other lecturer I mentioned, she has been even more difficult to please. Vague instructions, demanding assignments, high expectations. I suppose it is even more disappointing in her case, since she used to be oh-so-nice to everybody, and so approachable. Now she loves to deflect questions, to pretend that she "never knew", to be vague about her answers, or to ask a question in return. I suppose I have said enough in regards to, as April so aptly placed it, the Clay Golem. 

On the other end of the spectrum, NTR and PHI both ended up with really great lecturers. As little as I bother with NTR and its lectures, I must admit that Pauline is a great lecturer. Aside from the strange pronunciations and the boring lectures she give every Friday morning, you can tell that she is a person who actually knows what she is talking about. You can throw questions at her, and she probably knows how to answer you straight away, a world of a difference from Radi Raja who knew little of what we were talking about. Though, to be fair, we didn't understand her either, with her thick southern indian accent. She is genuinely passionate and nice, and it does make me feel a slight bit of guilt whenever I skip her classes (though, only so slightly). I suppose, given a different module, I'd probably appreciate her as a teacher a whole lot more, but Nutrition really isn't my thing, I am not a healthy person I suppose. Angelicia, as usual, is always so nice and friendly. Her e-mails are packed with unintended humor, and her stories about being asked for identification while buying beer despite being over thirty years of age always makes me smile, for some reason. It was a little strange to hear from her where and when she "made" the baby with her husband that time after school. But I suppose, little things like that are what make her so endearing as a lecturer. I hope everything goes well with the baby, and I do wonder if he is going to end up being called Marcel. I personally think that it sounds like the character of a Spanish soap opera, or a pack of cigarettes. 

And as for everything else, I am glad for my friends to be around, the old and the new, every one of them. Books and homework aside, these people are the only ones who make the school that much more memorable and fun. They are the reasons I look forward to school, and why staying back after school to study or to work through projects isn't such a horrible idea at all. It has been a fun ride with you guys, I must say, I haven't had a better school life until now, in university. For the longest time, high school has been known in my life as been the time of my education life with the most fun. But what do you know, college has provided so much more surprises that it is hard to deny that it has been a great journey with these friends. I suppose I have made some wrong choices in the past, things that I shouldn't have done. As a result, I might have betrayed the feelings of a few and offended the others. That was a long time ago, and my straying away from the pack to fit into the crowd has proven to be an epic fail. I do regret the decisions that I have made then, but I am also thankful for how you guys have taken me back in with opened arms. No questions asked, just like that. I am sorry if I forgot how much I love you guys, but I love you guys. 

So the last day of school, the official one, has been strangely cold and chilly. The winds are bringing the rain into my room, the curtain is slapping against the back of my fan and my notes are getting drenched by the raindrops. But at this point, I cannot care less if the side of the table is wet or if I am playing the music a notch too loud at home. This the end of all things, and I just cannot care less. The lack of a celebration today is OK, just a bit of alone time with myself and everything else. After all, I have already had a pre-last-day celebration yesterday, out with a few of my friends in town. Retail therapy has already started, with the graphic novel I bought (Kingdom Come is a really great book) and the food that I ate. By the way, stay away from that Japanese restaurant at the basement of The Cathay, they have the worst food I have ever eaten in a while. This is a quiet celebration for myself, with myself. This is how it is going to end this year, a silent retreat into the Singaporean winter, thinking about how it'd be like in Buffalo next year at the same time. Weather forecasts point to temperatures dipping below zero at this point in December, and I do wonder how I'd survive there. 

So, the holiday begins, and I haven't got plans. It is just days after days of nothingness, which I love. Finally, I get to wake up tomorrow morning, knowing that I haven't got anything to do for the rest of the day (please don't turn us out, SAF. Please). Until I return from a hibernation, I shall sign off and watch obscene amount of movies, read obscene amount of books, and melt into my bed sheet as the curtains continue to softly tease my fan with its fluttering kisses. Here's to 2008, so long!